SUMMER TIME

SUMMER TIME

Thursday, November 02, 2006

BABY YOU CAN DRIVE MY CAR

I drove home at 9:15 last evening from a Board of Directors' meeting. Most of the time I participate in work-related meetings immediately after regular work hours. Thankfully dinners are served at these functions so I was never hungry and don't have to eat a big lunch.

The main road leading to my house after the exit off the highway has been repaved since last week. The yellow lines dividing the lanes have not been painted. I can't see very well at night and the plastic reflecters on the road did not help much. As I tried very hard to stay in the right lane, I thought of a letter from my brother L wrote to me in 1990. In the letter L wrote that out of the blue while waiting for the train, he thought of me and the time when he helped me refreshing my driving before I moved to Michigan.

L wrote that he smiled when he remembered how I zigzagged through the streets of Queens. How he told me to ignore the other drivers speeding passed me. And how he told me not to get nervous from the cars following closely behind me. I sure missed those long letters L wrote to me the first two or three years after I moved from New York. I understand L does not have much free time and he has a lot of responsibilities at work as well as taking care of his family. I am happy that we keep in touch by email and short phone conversations. I treasure the time we spent together, just the two of us, when I visited New York last August. I enjoy reading L's blog entries and thankful that we have this outlet to share our thoughts and daily activities.

I received my driver license in 1987 but living in New York did not require that I owned an automobile. After moving to Michigan in December 1988, in record time, I learned to drive in winter conditions such as white-out, black ice or wind and snow blowing across the highway while I was stucked behind an 18-wheeler. Once I lost control of my car trying to avoid hitting a vehicle that moved too quickly over my lane, I ended up in the median. Luckily I was able to get back on the road with the help of a highway patrol officer.

My driving skills really improved when we moved to St. Louis. The first few months, I explored all major highways and challenged myself to find and avoid interchanges that were considered as "bottle-neck" traffic. My husband often teased me about my shortcuts trying to save five minutes of driving time. I also learned to give directions to other people with instructions such as "travel east after getting off at Dorsett Road exit, then north on Schultz road".

On a philosophical thought, I believe driving is like living. You have to know where you are going, when to merge and when to speed up, when to slow down and which exit to take. While driving, you must not hesitate and back-out once you decide to move to other lane. Of course, you must check your blind spot and make sure the traffic is clear before moving over. I have seen drivers starting to move over and then quickly move back without turning on signals.

Driving is like living because you have to concentrate on your own driving while keeping an eye on traffic around you. That is called driving defensively. But of course, there are people who should not be on the road, i.e. road rage, careless people who talk and eat while driving or stupid people who endanger others because they did not want to slow down at stop signs or speed through intersection even after traffic lights already turned red.

There is one thing I still have not learned is driving a stick shift. My husband tried teaching me but I was not comfortable with the shifting and the two pedals. I am driving a 2002 Mazda and it is perfectly fine for driving to work and home, and running errands. When we went on long distance trips, I helped with the driving and only then I would drive the T-bird on a stretch of highway for hours without too many vehicles around. My husband loves the T-bird and I would not want to drive the car on busy roads.

So baby I don't want to drive your fancy Thunderbird. And I don't care much for convertible because the wind messes up my hair!

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